


And alters but the smallest things.

by barthelme



Series: Strange attraction spreads its wings. [2]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: Anal Sex, Armie is oblivious, Fluff, Lame conversations, Light Dirty Talk, M/M, Masturbation, Nick needs more confidence, Soft Boys, Threesome - M/M/M, Timmy wants more dick, Webcam/Video Chat Sex, because he's getting all the dick and is confident, mentions of DP, sorta?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-31
Updated: 2020-03-31
Packaged: 2021-02-26 16:28:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23410972
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barthelme/pseuds/barthelme
Summary: Armie, who is away at a conference, gets a Facetime from a frazzled Nick and frisky Timmy. That's it; that's the story.
Relationships: Nick Delli Santi/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer, Timothée Chalamet/Nick Delli Santi, Timothée Chalamet/Nick Delli Santi/Armie Hammer
Series: Strange attraction spreads its wings. [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1611730
Comments: 37
Kudos: 143





	And alters but the smallest things.

**Author's Note:**

> I guess it could be read as a standalone, but I would suggest reading "You never know how anything will change," to get more their history which is briefly alluded to in this.

The call comes minutes after Armie gets back from dinner. After he’s just tossed his jeans over the desk chair and changed into a one of Nick’s t-shirts--

(He realized it as he was folding it into his suitcase last night. Held it between his hands and thought about putting it in Nick’s dresser. They’re all usually good about keeping their clothes straight but sometimes, Armie will pull on a pair of Nick’s jeans or get an arm through one of Timmy’s t-shirts and realize _Oh, that’s not going to fit_. But this t-shirt is old and stretched out and Nick’s not _that_ much smaller than Armie, so he packed it.)

\--and settled on the bed. Leaning back against the headboard and reaching down to scratch himself through his boxers. 

He accepts the Facetime and is greeted by. 

Well, he’s greeted by a very distressed Nick whose cheeks are flushed in a way that only happens when he’s extremely turned on. Greeted by a distressed Nick and a mess of Timmy’s hair. Timmy, who seems to be physically attached to Nick’s back, face buried in his neck. 

“Armie,” Nick breathes, squirming under the weight of Timmy, using his free hand to try and grab at Timmy’s hands, which are sliding down Nick’s torso and, fuck, Armie wishes he could be there. He loves it when Nick blushes. When Timmy takes control and demands what he wants and Nick, always willing to please but always equally worried about crossing some imaginary boundary he’s created in his head, tries to give it to him. 

“Yes?” Armie chuckles, his hand now slipping up under his--Nick’s--shirt to scratch his stomach, his chest. Teases, “Can I help you two?” 

Nick rolls his eyes and finally captures Timmy’s wrists in his hand. Pulls them up over head head and tries to detach Timmy from his body, but ends up just holding his wrists to his chest. Rolling his eyes and saying, “Armie, Timmy is--”

“So fucking horny,” Timmy mumbles into Nick’s neck, then looks up and his expression is so spuriously innocent that Armie has to laugh. “Armie, Niki won’t fuck me. Thinks you’d be mad if I sat on his fat cock without you here to watch.”

“That’s not what I--” 

“Thinks you’ll be upset with him if I ride his cock until he comes deep inside of me. Until I--” 

“Timmy,” Nick pleads and Armie notices the twitch of his hand around Timmy’s wrists. Can basically see the inner debate of whether or not he should let go of his wrists to cover Timmy’s mouth, or if giving Timmy free use of his hands again would be worse than anything he’s going to say. 

It’s probably a draw, Armie thinks. Both are equally greedy and filthy. “Why would I be mad?” Armie asks, even though he knows exactly what Nick is thinking. 

They haven’t talked about this, even though they should have. Nick moved in two months ago, though, and everything has been so relatively easy that every time Armie has thought, “Oh, right, we should discuss boundaries and whatnot,” it’s quickly replaced by the desire to just enjoy a quiet dinner or read a book while Timmy and Nick play video games. 

Because, really, there hasn’t been much to talk about. They have two bedrooms but normally all sleep in one. And the sex hasn’t been an issue, not until now. But, shit, Armie never really thought about this. No, no, he’s _thought_ about Timmy and Nick together without him. A lot, even before that weekend. And, maybe the sex _has_ been an issue and Armie didn’t realize it. Because he’s sucked Nick off while Timmy’s been showering. He’s fucked Timmy when Nick is out for a run. They don’t talk about it because Armie just assumed they were fucking around when he was busy, too. 

And he hasn’t really thought about it, hadn’t really cared, but now Nick is looking at him like, ‘Are you fucking with me right now?’ while Timmy’s wide eyes says, ‘Right? Now fucking tell him.’

But, apparently, they weren’t. 

Armie licks his lips. “Niki, baby, why would I be mad?” He knows the answer but he wants to hear it. Wants to see Nick’s lips make the words. 

Nick opens his mouth. Closes it. 

“See, Niki, baby, Armie isn’t mad. He wants you to fuck me,” Timmy croons and, god, he’s fucking ridiculous. “Wants you to take care of me and fill me with that big--”

“Timmy,” Armie says, but he slips his hand down to his cock. Touches himself through the thin fabric. “Don’t be a dick,” he warns.

Armie smiles when Timmy’s hands go limp and he moves to rest his temple on Nick’s shoulder. “Not being a dick,” he singsongs and Armie gets that it’s frustrating for him. 

He gets that this has all been a struggle for Timmy. Having to start a relationship with Armie knowing that Nick was always going to be there in some way or form. Getting to know Nick and having to keep his feelings hidden for so long because he didn’t want Armie to get jealous (because Armie gets jealous when waitresses touch Timmy’s shoulder, when they’re walking on the street and people do a double take [or a “double tooky looky” as Timmy calls them.])

It’s been hard for Timmy, realizing that Armie was also keeping his feelings for Nick a secret, had kept them a secret for so long. Had been keeping _that_ from Timmy. 

Armie knows it was hard for Timmy to realize he was going to be the one to have to start the conversation. The one to casually say on a Tuesday, “Nick looked cute today,” while he put dishes away. “You know, he looks cute most days, don’t you think?” 

The one to admit that night, low in Armie’s ear, “There’s something I’ve always wanted to try, Armie.” Settled his ass flush against Armie. Leaned back so he could rest his palms on Armie’s thighs, let his body stretch out above Armie. Rolled his hips slightly, and Armie loves when Timmy does that. Takes him all in and just relaxes into the stretch. Wiggles his hips and lets Armie feel every inch of himself inside Timmy’s body. “I’ve never felt comfortable with anyone to ever bring it up, but you love me, don’t you, Armie? And you want to know everything about me, right?” 

And Armie had only been able to nod, having a gut feeling that Timmy was going to say he wanted to include Nick. Worried that he’d have to explain to Timmy that it wasn’t an option because including Nick once would make Armie need to include him again and again and again. 

But then, Timmy went and said, “I’d like to try and take two cocks,” and it knocked the wind out of Armie. He forgot all about Nick for a second, thinking about how wide Timmy would be stretched. How slow they’d have to go and the sounds Timmy would make. Fuck, his ass is always tight, almost too tight right then, clenched around Armie. Shifted his hips back and forth his cock bobbing between them, a light shade of red. A drop of precum slipping from his slit that Armie remembers reaching out to wipe away with his thumb. Licking it off his skin. 

“Yeah?”

Timmy had nodded. “I’d like to try and take two cocks in my ass. I’ve never told anyone this before, but I’ve never trusted anyone like I trust you.” And then he’d leaned forward and braced his hands on the headboard. Started to slowly fuck himeslf on Armie’s cock. “And I think we both trust the same person to be gentle with me, don’t we? I think we trust the same person because he’s not just cute, is he? He’s good and nice and--”

“Fuck, Timmy, stop,” Armie had pleaded. Clenched his eyes shut and tried not to imagine Nick. Tried not to imagine how Nick would be so soft with Timmy. How he’d be so good, so gentle, so perfect. How it would be so perfect to share Timmy with him. To share him with Timmy. To share himself with both of them and--

“I don’t think you want me to stop,” Timmy had teased, continuing to roll his body into each thrust. “But I can stop if you want. I can stop telling you that I want Nick to slip his cock in next to yours. Want you both to fuck me and stretch my little hole open, want to be sore for days and everytime I breathe, wanna think about how much I trust you both.” 

Then, he’d lowered himself so he was chest to chest with Armie. Tucked his face into Armie’s shoulder and braced himself while Armie reached down to hold his hips. Started fucking up into him. Whispered, “Want you both to come inside me, Armie. Want--fuck, fuck--to make him breakfast in the morning,” while Armie pounded up into him. While his cock rubbed between them and he made helpless grunts against Armie’s neck until he was coming, wetness spurting between them, mixing with their sweat. Body going almost limp as Armie continued fucking him, giving one, two last thrusts before releasing deep inside Timmy’s body. 

Armie knows it was hard for Timmy to slip off of Armie’s cock and suggest a shower. To rinse the shampoo from his hair and look up at Armie after giving his words some time to simmer. To ask, “Is that something we want, Armie?”

He knows it was hard for Timmy because it was almost harder for Armie to nod. To lean down and kiss Timmy. Whisper against his lips, “But not if there’s any risk of losing you.” 

Hard for Timmy to shake his head and promise, “Never,” knowing perfectly well it was a promise that could be really hard to keep. 

And so Armie gets that it’s frustrating that, after all of that, Nick doesn’t seem to feel comfortable with just Timmy. Doesn’t seem to feel that Timmy is as much _his_ as Armie is. And he’d never say anything, never complain, but Armie can tell his patience is just about shot. 

Armie sighs and asks, “Timmy, can you leave for a few minutes so I can talk to Nick?” He smiles as Timmy rolls his eyes. Presses a kiss to Nick’s cheek and then slides off the bed. Disappears from the screen. 

“Armie, I’m sorry. We were out and Timmy maybe had one too many and you know how he gets handsy and--”

“I know how you _like_ when he gets handsy,” Armie jokes. Sits up and scratches under his jaw. Asks, “If it was me there instead of Timmy, would this conversation be happening?”

He watches as Nick’s face shifts from nervous to uncomfortable. As his lips part and his eyes dart away from his phone. “Armie, you know that’s different.”

“It’s not,” Armie tells him. Explains, “It shouldn’t be. It literally _can’t_ be if this is going to work.” He clears his throat. Smiles softly when Nick looks back at the phone. “Nick, this is partially my fault and I guess I just took things for granted. But that--” he points at the phone. “You and Timmy? That’s no different than you and I or me and Timmy, okay? And Timmy? He needs that, okay? You do, too, right?”

Nick nods, but doesn’t reply. 

“I was _happy_ Nick. Like, I had pictured my life with Timmy. We were going to get married, do all that cheesy couple shit like yearly vacations to the same boring cabin on a lake or some shit. We’d get a dog, have boring hobbies.” He realizes he’s rambling. Can tell that Nick is lost. “And, at the end of the day, I’d always want to tell _you_ about everything. That I wanted to share everything with you. Hell, you’d probably have a standing invitation to the cabin. And Timmy made me realize that you could be a part of it all, that you could be part of _us_ when I didn’t even think that was an option.” 

Nick’s eyebrows lift and fall. “Armie, if I’ve come between you two and what you--”

“Shut up, oh my god,” Armie laughs. Straightens his back and brings the phone a bit closer. “Nick, you’ve made everything so much better. But you need to realize that Timmy is the reason this is even happening. And he needs you, okay? He trusts you and loves you. Do you trust and--”

Nick rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course.” 

“Have you told him that?” 

His lips scrunch to the left. The right. “I’ve told him I love him. You’ve _heard_ me--”

“Nick, he needs to know that you trust him and want _him_ not just me, okay? Not just _because_ of me.”

Nick nods, and Armie knows he gets it, but maybe wasn’t confident enough to admit it. Knows he got it a long time ago, maybe even before that weekend at the conference. Maybe before Armie. 

Armie was always jealous of that summer Timmy and Nick had. That summer where Nick felt more like Timmy’s friend than his own. When he had to learn so many things about Nick through Timmy. That Nick had gone on more than one date with a guy, that he sprained his wrist playing a pick-up game, that he got in a fender bender but he’s okay. 

Was jealous when he’d see Timmy almost done with a book he didn’t recognize and flick the cover. Say, “I didn’t know you liked nonfiction.” And Timmy would say, “I _talked_ to you about this book like a week ago,” and they’d playfully argue until Timmy would blush. Correct himself. “Oh, wait, no, I told Niki about it.”

Was jealous that Nick let Timmy call him Niki. That Timmy sounded so comfortable saying it. That, by the end of the summer, he sometimes didn’t even feel comfortable using the endearment, not when Timmy was around and saying it so freely. 

Some nights, when he’d get home from class, too tired to meet up with Timmy and Nick, he’d watch television and think about how they might be better together. How, if Nick had had the confidence, maybe he’d be the one waiting up for Timmy. 

But, Armie was the one Timmy came home to. He was the one who took a chance on everything, on everyone. 

Nick runs a hand through his hair and asks, “So, it’s okay if Timmy and I, if we--”

“Oh my god, are you not listening? Nick, nothing would make me happier right now than you fucking our boyfriend, okay?”

He likes the way _our_ sounds. He doesn’t think he’s ever said the phrase ‘our boyfriend,’ but he likes it. Likes how circular the words feel on his tongue, his lips. 

He grins when Nick’s cheek returns to a flustered pink hue. “He probably passed out somewhere,” 

“Has Timmy _ever_ passed out when sex is an option?” Armie laughs. Demands, “Go find him. Take me with you.” 

And then Nick’s smile stretches wide, his canines sharp, wicked. “So demanding,” he says as he stands up. The video shakes as Nick bounces through the house. From their bedroom to the hallway. Out to the living room where, that summer, Armie came home and found Timmy asleep with his head on Nick’s thigh.

He’d come home and joked, “Is it the dead girl in the closet again?” Joked because Nick looked comfortable, Timmy looked rested. Everything looked like home from the empty pizza box and the bottles, to the original doors and Nick’s bare feet and his hand on Timmy’s shoulder. 

Joked because it looked like everything he wanted but never thought he’d have. 

And now, Nick’s turning the phone to face Timmy, who’s curled up against the arm of the couch, scrolling through his phone. Bare feet tucked under his body. “Come back to bed, Timmy,” Nick asks, his voice slightly muffled by the distance. 

Timmy doesn’t look up, but Armie can see his pout. The pout he gets when he’s let himself get too far in his own head, when he’s blaming himself. “Why? Because Armie wants me to or--”

“Because I want you to,” Nick says, and at that, Timmy looks up. Face neutral, waiting to be swayed. “I want you to come to bed and i want Armie to watch--”

Fuck, Armie leans back against the headboard again. Smiles at Nick’s nervous pause. As much as he loves when the words flow from Nick. When he slaps Armie’s ass and tells him how good his ass looks stretched on his cock, when he holds Timmy down on his cock, rubs his cheek and hisses, “Yeah, get it nice and wet.” When he rambles from having a dick in his ass, the words sometimes not making sense but getting to the point of the matter. 

As much as he loves that, Armie adores when Nick has to think about what he’s about to say. When he’s a bit shy about it. And he knows Timmy loves it, too. Can see it in the way his lips quirk to one side. The way he looks like he’s about to tackle Nick, to show him how he never has to be shy, not with Timmy, not with them. 

“Want to make Armie watch you fuck yourself on my cock. Watch you ride me until you come and--”

Timmy sits forward and licks his lips. His pout has disappeared and he looks like he’s ready to wrap Nick up, hold him down. “And what? Watch how I can come just from your big cock in me?” And then Timmy is standing up and taking the phone from Nick. Staring at Armie and teasing, “Make him watch how much fun we’re having here instead of in fucking Florida?”

Armie interjects, “That’s not even fair! It’s for work.” But he laughs because for the last week, Timmy has been making side comments about how if Armie doesn’t come back with Mickey Mouse ears for him and Nick, he’s going to be pissed. How he better get Gaston’s autograph for him and if he even _thinks_ about stepping foot in this house without a t-shirt that reads “Someone I love went to Disney and all I got was this lousy t-shirt,” even if Armie has to have is special made, he won’t get his dick sucked for a week. Maybe two. 

He’s been relentless, even when Nick noted, “You realize Miami is _hours_ from Orlando, right Timmy?”

“You’re still in Florida,” Timmy cuts him off and then flips him a quick middle finger before, apparently, dropping the phone down and--

Well, all Armie can see his blurs. A palm, the couch, maybe a thigh.

But, fuck, he can hear. He can hear the rustle of fabric and Timmy whispering, “I’m sorry if I pushed, it’s fine if--”

“I like when you push me.”

And then Timmy says something Armie can’t understand, but then there’s quiet. There’s stillness and Armie can see feet. Bare toes. Timmy’s sliding over Nick’s as he steps closer. He knows he’s imagining it, but he hears the faint touch of wet lips. The soft, intimate sound of lips parting. “I like everything about you,” Nick whispers. 

Armie thinks about hanging up. Letting them have their moment. Letting them have whatever they want without him, but he’s greedy and his cock is hard. He’d forgotten how hard he was until just now. Too worried about Nick, about Timmy. But now, he hears Timmy says, “You mean you like how my--”

“No, I like everything about you, Timmy. Love you so much, okay?” 

And there’s a long pause and Armie reaches down to toy with the hem of his boxers. Imagines the silence in the house around Timmy and Nick. Their eyes locked on one another. Timmy would probably be reaching out for Nick’s waist with his free hand. Maybe remembering Armie’s still on the line, but not really caring. Not caring because Nick’s reaching up to cup his cheek, to kiss his nose, his lips, his chin. 

Because Nick’s saying, “I love you, Timmy, and I love all of this.”

And Timmy says, “Okay,” and then Armie doesn’t have to imagine the wet slide of lips and tongues. Lets his fingers dip below his waistband when he hears Timmy respond, “I love it, too.”

Lets his hand slip further and grip his cock when their voices, their lips, are muffled by motion. Are masked by the clumsy movement of bodies, of doors creaking and mattresses dipping. The thud of the phone falling to the ground. 

“Shit,” Timmy says, and then there’s a footstep, Timmy’s face. “Hey, Florida man,” he winks, then lifts the phone to prop it up. Armie tries to imagine what he’s propping it up on. It’s definitely the dresser at the end of the bed, but is the phone leaned against one of his stacks of books? Against the mirror Timmy insisted they get so he didn’t have to wait for Nick or Armie to finish showering so he could do his hair?

Maybe leaned against one of the picture frames that Nick has started to decorate the house with. Snapshots of one of them, two of them, three. 

Timmy steps back and seems to check the view. Makes sure Armie can see. 

And then he turns his back to the phone and pulls his shirt over his head. Lets it fall to the ground and pushes his sweatpants off his hips. Steps out of them and, fuck, Armie never gets sick of this view. Of the gentle slopes of Timmy’s ass, the long curve of his spine. The dip of his waist, the sleek broadness of his shoulders. 

God, and how he never tires of the way Timmy looks when he’s taking control. Seeking Nick’s body on the bed and straddling his hips. Wrestling Nick’s shirt over his head and tossing it aside. Taking his wrists and placing them on the backs of Timmy’s thighs. Asking, “You want it like this?” 

And he doesn’t give Nick a chance to answer. Kisses him and presses their bodies together. Pushes until Nick lays back and, at this point, Armie gives in. Shimmies out of his boxers and starts stroking his cock. Silently watching. Biting his tongue because as much as he wants to direct, wants to tell Niki to spread Timmy for him. Spread him so Armie can see his pretty pink hole. So he can see how tight he is before Nick stretches him open. As much as he wants to, he doesn’t. 

Just watches as Nick’s hands gently cup Timmy’s thin thighs, his fingers impossibly long and tan on Timmy’s pale skin. As he glides his hands up, then down, then back up. Cupping Timmy’s ass and pulling him forward and Armie curses under his breath when he realizes what Nick wants. 

(Pushes away the words, the taunt. Just watches, watches, watches.)

And the angle is awful. He wishes he was there, wishes he could be on the bed next to him, but this is almost better. Better watching Timmy’s ass clench as he thrusts past Nick’s lips, as he starts up a slow rhyhtm, fucking his mouth. Lets out little gasps of, “Yeah, Nick, Niki.”

Armie tries to go slow, but he’s already leaking. Already clenching his toes at the sight of the bulge in Nick’s pants. At the sight of him letting go of Timmy to reach down and undo his pants. Push them down and let his cock spring free. Slap up against his belly before Nick reaches down to grip the base of his dick. Gives himself a few strokes before making some sort of movement that makes Timmy laugh. Whisper, “So bossy.” 

But then Armie gets it because Timmy is clumsily reaching for the lube on the bed stand. Reaching it with deft fingers and a sure hand. Settling back so he can resume his thrusts into Nick’s mouth while, eventually, two slick fingers reach back to press against his hole. To rub against the pucker before one bends and glides in. Slides in and out a few times before pausing and letting the other join. 

Armie bites his lip and works the head of his cock. Is fairly certain he’s going to come before these two idiots even fuck at this rate. Is going to come because Timmy is shallowly working his hole so that his knuckles catch on the rim. Is twisting them a bit, then pressing in a third, his free arm supporting him over Nick as he trembles more than thrusts at this point. 

Is going to come because Nick’s stroking his cock so slowly while reaching up with his other hand to press a finger along Timmy’s rim. To encourage him to fuck himself, then dip the tip of his finger in and out. 

There’s a long drawl of Nick’s name and Timmy is sitting up. Scooting down Nick’s thighs. Reaching back with a slick hand to clumsily slide over Nick’s dick. Insisting, “I’m ready, I’m ready, so ready, so fucking ready, Niki,” as Niki sits up. 

Spreads Timmy’s ass with one hand. Uses his other to slap his cock against Timmy’s hole. Asks, “Do you want me to--”

“Just go slow,” Timmy says, shifting his hips until the head of Nick’s cock catches his rim and then pausing. His back tensing as he starts to slide down and, fuck, fuck, Armie really didn’t have a chance because the thick head of Nick’s cock is barely pressing into Timmy and Armie’s coming over his fist, his stomach, Nick’s shirt. He brings his fist to his mouth. Bites the knuckles as Timmy sinks down further. Drops his head back as Nick leans forward to pepper his chest with kisses, licks. 

Lets himself exhale once Timmy settles on Nick’s lap. Steadies his hands on Nick’s shoulders and starts to fuck himself. 

Lets himself exhale once Nick’s hands come to rest on Timmy’s thin waist. Helping to guide him up, letting him move down at his own pace. Whispering words that Armie wants to hear but doesn’t need to know. 

Armie drops his phone for a minute. Picks up his boxers and wipes himself off. Stretches his fingers and groans at the stickiness. 

He rolls off the bed and pads quickly to the bathroom. Wets a washcloth and wipes down his cock. Takes off Nick’s shirt and drops it to the floor. Washes his hands, then quietly slips back to the bed. Picks up the phone and--

Fuck.

Timmy’s facing him now. Thighs still bracketing Nick’s. Head resting back on his shoulder while Nick holds one arm strong over Timmy’s chest. The other on his hip. Timmy’s cock is red, bouncing each time he sinks back onto Nick’s cock, his mouth open, lips wet and words finally audible, finally Armie’s to sink into. “Fuck, Nick. Niki, baby, gonna--”

“Yeah, Timmy, just take it, take what you--”

Timmy’s movements become faster, more determined. “So close, gonna, so--fuck, Nick,” and Armie has never watched this. Has never seen Timmy do this, but now it’s all he wants to see. 

He slips under the covers and licks his lips as Timmy keeps riding Nick. Seemingly unaware of an audience, of anything but Nick and his cock and his hands and his words that Armie has to strain to hear and maybe that’s the point. 

All he wants to see is Timmy’s hand coming up to clutch Nick’s forearm. The other reaching back to grip Nick’s hair. His thighs quivering with each rise and fall until his entire body goes taut, ridgid. And an arch of come spurts from his cock, landing on Nick’s thighs. Probably the comforter, the carpet. Until it dribbles down his cock, sliding across his length to make his hardness glisten. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck me,” Timmy hisses and he looks a mess. Looks surprised that his body was able to do that and Nick takes no time grabbing his waist and flicking his hips up once, twice, before pulling Timmy against him and crying out with his own release. 

At that, Armie ends the call. He wants to see them clean one another up. To snuggle and talk and probably stay up too late. But he wants it to be for them, just for them. 

______

On Sunday, Armie manages to get an earlier flight. He gets an earlier flight and takes an Uber home because there is still dew in the grass and he knows Nick and Timmy aren’t the type to wake up a minute earlier than they need to. 

He leaves his bag by the front door and is twirling a new Mickey Mouse keychain (really, Timmy’s new Mickey Mouse keychain that he got at a souvenir shop in Miami) around his finger when he hears Nick say, “Fuck, Timmy, yes just like that.”

Walks into the bedroom and drops his keys on the dresser. Grins at the sight of Nick on all fours, Timmy holding him open and licking at his hole. “Have you two done anything else this weekend?” Armie teases, but he pulls off his shirt and adds it to the pile on the floor.

**Author's Note:**

> This is a bit sloppy and didn't turn out how I wanted it to, really, but I was 3k in before I realized that, so here we are. 
> 
> And, yes, now we have Armie's POV so that means we'll need Timmy's at some point.
> 
> bartbarthelme on tumblr.


End file.
